


Of Waffles and Fires

by kjm126316



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: 2 am fic, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, There's a lil' cursing, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjm126316/pseuds/kjm126316
Summary: Toby is kept awake at night by his Tourettes; Clockwork by a random bout of insomnia and a few nightmares.  They decide that it's a good idea to make waffles at 1:00 in the morning. What could go wrong? Lots, apparently.





	

TIC.

 

Toby jolted awake, eyes wide open. Upon realizing what had woken him up, he groaned and threw an arm over his eyes.

 

Fucking tourettes.

 

Sighing, the twitchy proxy climbed out of bed, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair as he did so. There really was no point in trying to go back to bed, his Tourettes would surely keep him awake.

 

Toby stumbled towards the exit to his tiny bedroom, sleep still clouding his thoughts and making his movements fuzzy and uncoordinated. 

 

Ticcing spastically, the pyromaniac slowly made his way down the stairs, nearly bonking his head against the wall 3 times as he did so.

 

Gotta love tourettes, right?

 

Upon reaching the kitchen, Toby started, noticing that someone was already there.

 

Stitched smile. Radioactive green eye. The ticking if a clock.

 

Clockwork.

 

Toby swallowed, feeling his face heat up. He had fallen head over heels for Clockwork some time ago, and now even being in her mere presence caused his brain to turn to goo.

 

He was tempted to just turn around and head back to to his room, when Clockwork spoke up.

 

“What are you doing up so early Toby?” The brown haired girl asked without turning around. Toby bit his lip and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“H-how’d you kn-know it was *tic* m-m-me?” He asked. Clockwork tsked, finally turning around and giving him a deadpan look.

 

“I could hear you ticcing,” she said matter-of-factly. Toby blushed, playing with the hem of the T-shirt he was wearing.

 

“O-oh…” Clockwork rolled her eyes, pulling a chair out for Toby.

 

“Sit,” she instructed. The twitchy proxy did as she asked, blush intensifying when he realized he was wearing nothing other then his T-shirt and boxers.

 

Smooth Toby, smooth.

 

“What are you doing up?” Clockwork asked again, shaking Toby out of his reverie.

 

“I-I, um,” he mumbled with his words, unable to explain why he was up. In the end he just thought 'fuck it' and went with the blatant truth. “My tourette's woke *tic* me up.” Clockwork cocked an eyebrow.

 

“Oh?” She questioned. Toby's blush intensified.

 

“Y-y-y-yeah,” he muttered. “Happens a l-lot to be *tic* h-h-honest.” Clockwork frowned, tracing patterns in the wood.

 

“I'm sorry to hear that,” she mumbled at length. Toby cracked a grin.

 

“D-don't be,” he said. “H-happens a-all the *tic* t-time. Anyways,” he nibbled on his thumb, anxious to change the subject. “Wh-what are you *tic* doing up?” Clockwork frowned, finally growing bored of tracing the designs of the table.

 

“A combination of a random bout of insomnia, and a few nightmares,” she admitted. “Hungry?” Toby balked, question registering in his head.

 

“Hungry?” He repeated. “Kinda, why?” Clockwork rolled her radioactive green eye.

 

“'Cause I'm makin’ breakfast, dummy,” she teased him, standing up and walking over to the countertop, pulling out a waffle iron. “Waffles?” Toby chuckled.

 

“Y-you just read my *tic* m-mind,” he said, knitting his eyebrows. “Arent’cha worried someone'll hear us?” Clockwork snorted, pulling out some waffle mix.

 

“Please, the chances of anyone hearing us are slim and next to nothing,” she said disdainfully, cracking an egg into a bowl. “Hold this.” Toby yelped as she threw an egg at him, he somehow managed to catch it without breaking it. Clockwork gave him an impressed look.

 

“Nicely done,” she complimented, concealing a snicker when a more violent tic shook Toby’s frame, causing him to break the egg. He stared at it while it slid down his front.

 

“... W-we will n-n-never *tic* sp-speak of this, und-understand?” Clockwork smirked.

 

“I make no promises,” she teased, now whisking together the ingredients. “You might wanna wash that off your hands, it gets pretty sticky and nasty after a while.” Toby rolled his amberish eyes, already at the sink and washing the egg off his hands.

 

“Never would’ve guessed that,” he said sarcastically, yelping when Clockwork lightly elbowed him. It didn't hurt, obviously, that's just the way CIPA works, but it startled him noneless.

 

“Can you grab the syrup out of the fridge and set the table?” Clocky asked, distraction evident in her tone. Toby nodded once before briskly walking over to the fridge and plopping the bottle of maple syrup down. Two plates and two sets of forks and knives followed.

 

“And the first waffle is done!” Clockwork announced, cutting it in two and placing half on each of their plates. They both sat down across firm each other and began to eat, when Toby spoke up.

 

“I j-just realized *tic* we’re eating breakfast at,” Toby paused to check the time. “1:35 am,” he chuckled. “I've never d-done th-that before.” Clockwork responded with a smile that basically turned Toby's insides to mush.

 

“There's a first time for everything,” she pointed out, just as a acidic smell reached her nose. Her eyes widened, and they both whipped around just in time to see the waffle maker go up in flames.

 

This is around the time shit hit the fan.

 

Toby and Clocky both jumped to their feet, both wearing expressions of “we fucked up, we fucked up good.” 

 

“What *tic* d-do we do?” Toby hissed. Clockwork threw her hands in the air.

 

“I don't know, be happy Slender doesn't have fire alarms?!” She knotted her fists in her hair. “You’re the pyromaniac, not me!” Toby rolled his eyes.

 

“Pyromaniacs start fires, not the other way around!” He hissed. Clockwork took a few deep breathes to calm herself down.

 

It seemed to be working, until the fire latched onto the countertop.

 

Then every fuck was thrown out the window.

 

Wasting no time whatsoever, Clocky raced over to the sink, turning it in and spraying the fire with water. It died almost immediately, and the two were left to bask in the aftermath. Clockwork grounded on Toby.

 

“Thanks for your help,” she said sarcastically. Toby threw his arms up in the air.

 

“Wh-what was I s-supposed to *tic* do?” He asked. “You s-s-seemed p-pretty capable *tic* yourself.” Clockwork rolled her eyes, staring at the victims if the fire.

 

“At least we’re both ok,” she muttered. Toby winced. 

 

“Um, b-both of us *tic* are g-g-gonna be less th-then ok if Sl-Sl-Slender wakes up *tic* and finds out w-w-we destroyed his waffle m-maker,” he pointed out. Clockwork cursed violently, turning back to look at the carnage.

 

“Shit, your right,” she realized. “What do we do?” 

 

…

 

“Wh-why don't we j-just bury it?” Clockwork looked at Toby in surprise.

 

“That's… actually not a bad idea,” she realized, reaching over to unplug the waffle iron. She hissed at the contact, drawing her hand.

 

“Shit that's hot!” She hissed. Toby rolled his eyes and calmly walked over and unplugged the destroyed waffle iron, paying no heed to the burns forming on his hands. Clockwork rolled her eyes.

 

“Idiot,” she mumbled. “You'll get burnt to.” Toby shrugged.

 

“Don't really c-care,” he said walking toward the sliding screen window. “C-come help me b-b-bury *tic* this.” Giving Toby a half-hearted glare, Clockwork followed him out of the house and into the backyard. She looked around.

 

“I guess any spot will do,” she mumbled, sitting down and digging into the soft dirt. Toby kind her, and pretty soon they had a hole deep enough for the waffle iron. Toby plopped said object in said hole, and covered it back up with dirt.

 

“W-well,” he said, standing up. “Th-that was an adventure.” Clockwork rolled her eyes, also standing up.

 

“If you can call it an adventure,” she muttered, shivering when a cold breeze blew by. “C’mon, let's go inside already, I'm freezing.” 

 

The two creepypastas hurried back inside and sat back down at their respective places, a silence falling over the two.

 

“Want a coffee?”

 

“I'd love one, actually.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okee-smokee, there's ma oneshot done.   
> ...  
> Hmm...  
> I'm at a loss for words...  
> This is a new expirence for me...


End file.
